Food came at last; not the best, not the worst, just something to eat. Silence ensued again as we ate. I hated awkward silence, and this was the epitome of awkward silence.
"So what to you do? For a job I mean?" I asked at last.
"I…well, I write music," he said, and then a dark look came over his face, "Of course, I used to write music for her, so I do not think I will be doing that anymore,"
"If you really love writing music, you should not give it up just because she was a bitch," I said between bites of salad, "You should never sacrifice your career for a lover," I was a firm believer that while he can break up with you for any reason at any time, your job you can always keep; if you don't screw up.
"I started writing music for her anyway; I think if I just try to forget about it that would be best," He looked off into space. If I had known at that moment what he was going through I would have bought him a bottle of wine then and there. In a new time, far away from everything he had ever known, heart still reeling from breaking, head still reeling from waking up in this brave new world.
"I tried that; just block out everything about the past," I picked at my food with my fork, "It does not work as well as you would like; you end up remembering and throwing a fit anyway, the best remedy for a broken heart will always be a drunken night with your friends,"
"And if you do not have any friends?" he asked. Crap, I thought, now what do I say?
"Family works to," please let him have family, I thought.
"And if you don't have that either?" Crap.
"Well some time I will just have to take you out and get you drunk," Crap, crap crap! I didn't think I wanted to be around this guy any more than I had to…at least, I didn't think I did.
"You are lying aren't you!" he said, staring at my uncomfortable expression, "I know that look! You feel bad for me, so you say you will do something you really don't want to do and something you will try your hardest to get out of," He understood better than I thought. Crap.
"I don't want you to do anything you don't really want to do," He sounded like my date after the junior prom.
"All I want is this one favor; I have never been…here…before; I don't know where anything is, so if you could just show me around?"
Suddenly I felt like I was seeing behind a magic trick. Had his whole lost, heartbroken appearance been an illusion? A clever ploy to get me to go out with him again? Of course it was not, but I am a foolish, cynical skeptic, what was I supposed to think?
"Um…I don't know, I am pretty busy," I said.
He looked like he was about to say something, then he changed his mind.
"Fine," he said simply, and it looked as though he was mentally kicking himself.
As much as I hated to admit it, I had had a hard time looking at his face. At first I had not even been sure I would be able to get through dinner with him. When we had been seated, to avoid looking at his deformity, I had been looking down at the table and just listening to what he said.
And there it was. There was something about his voice. Who ever heard of being attracted to a voice? But it was undeniable. The more I just listened to him the more I just wanted to listen. My eyes had been drawn up to meet his, the twisted skin on his cheek had slowly become like the plot in an action movie; it didn't really matter.
Maybe being his welcome to the city girl would not be so bad. I did owe him; after all I had been the one who pulled him into this. Plus, I could not stand the look of rejection on his face after I told him I was busy.
"Alright," I agreed, "I can show you the sights, what do you want to see?"
He brightened considerably, "You live here, what should I see?"
I sighed, what shouldn't you see in New York?
It was dusk outside, and I thought we might as well get started. We left the restaurant; I did not leave a good tip.
I had a cab take us down through Time Square. He stared out the window amazed. He insisted that we get out of the cab and walk around. Every neon sign and every loud noise was astounding to him.
It was actually kind of fun. Most people in New York were jaded and walked past every landmark and modern marvel without giving anything a second thought; but not him.
To him it was all incredible, and I could not help but get caught up in his enthusiasm for the scenes around us. And of course there was his voice; it was striking how much I liked to hear that voice.
The sun sank and we were still wondering around. I told him every detail I could think of about the city I loved so much. It was strange to have such an attentive listener.
Everything was going fine; he turned out to be quite smart, if not confused, and sardonic, which I find entertaining, and after stopping in several places for drinks, he did not look so bad.
True to New York fashion, the moment when I was actually beginning to relax around my strange new friend was the moment I saw him. We were about to enter a new fusion restaurant and bar called Mayan. It blended classic South American dishes with Mediterranean food and, well, drinks.
Of all the bars in all the barrows in all New York, he had to walk out of Mayan! Mark Berry; my ex.
He was standing outside the bar; on his arm was the young, rich, blond who he had left me for. My heart, which I had thought was back together, began splitting apart as I watched the man I had thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with kiss another woman.
And he was going to see me. I could not let him see me! Not when I hadn't moved past him and I had just been stood up the night before. That was not the way I wanted him to see me. I wanted to flaunt my own winning relationship in his face and show him I did not care for him anymore and that he had not hurt me.
That, and the cosmopolitans I had been drinking all night, was why I did it. Mark was about to turn and look at me and I just grabbed him. I pulled him close to me and prayed he would understand as I pressed my lips to his. My mind was buzzing; I was kissing a stranger in the middle of the street so I could avoid my old fiancé.
And then there was the actual kiss. He was shocked to say the least. Slowly he wrapped his arms around me. Most men would have taken full advantage of the situation, going in with the tongue and letting the hand travel down my backside; but he did not. He hardly touched me, but he was very sweet.
He actually felt quite good, and I found myself enjoying this kiss more than I thought I would. I blame all the other men in New York for this kiss; if I had not been so starved for true affection I might not have been so comfortable with making out with a man I had only known for a day.
If all the bad dates, bad boyfriends, and worse breakups had not driven me half crazy I don't think I would have fallen into a stranger's arms.
And Erik? Well so many unbelievable things had happened to him in the last day, what was one more?
I saw my ex walk past us; only looking for a moment at what he had thought were two lovers. Even though they were gone, I held on to him a moment longer. I finally drew away. His arms had barley been holding me and as I pulled back he let them fall to his side. The poor man, I must have confused the hell out of him.
"I am so sorry…again," I said, realizing that was the second time that day I had used him to get out of an uncomfortable situation with a man, "That man that just walked by," I pointed, "He is my ex, and I just couldn't face him," God I sounded pathetic.
"I don't understand you at all," Erik said to me, "Why did you do that?"
"I didn't want to talk to him, and it was the first thing that came to mind," I confessed.
"You stopped seeing him three years ago and you still feel heartbroken when you see him?" he asked, no doubt thinking that if I was still not over my ex, how could he ever get over Christine?
I nodded, "Hurts like hell every time I think about him,"
"There is no hope for any of us then," he said, and I snorted.
"Now you are beginning to develop the sense of pessimism which is vital to every New Yorker," I got a cap, "Welcome to the brave new world,"